Lonely
by dragonheartt
Summary: What if Connor was stranded in the Cretaceous on his own? Injured and utterly alone, everything he's learned through the years, a whole lot of guess work, and pure determination will have to be enough to keep him alive...
1. Chapter 1

He slowly found his way back to consciousness, blinking dazedly and looking around for Abby. He felt a surge of terror at seeing her facing down the raptor. After a bit of confusion, he hit it unconscious with a large branch, and then Abby helped him limp towards the anomaly.

They found it still open, and Connor told Abby he had to sit down, his head was spinning and his whole body hurt and ached. She wanted to stay with him, but he convinced her to go after Danny and Helen. She left him the bag. He promised he'd be right in the same spot when she got back.

Only, the anomaly closed before she and Danny could return, and Connor stared at the spot where the anomaly had been, fear surging through him like the pain.

He was alone and injured in the cretaceous. His mind kicked into gear, a hundred different thoughts running through his mind, plans and worries and questions. He sat there for a few moments, trying to collect the errant thoughts and organize a solid plan.

Connor swallowed down his fear and pushed the pain away, working on adrenaline left over from his fight with the raptor, grabbed the branch he'd used as a crutch, and staggered to his feet. He slipped the backpack onto his shoulder, and set off to find somewhere to stay for the night. A tree would be best, near a stream if possible, even though he did have at least one canteen full of water in the bag. How he would manage to climb a tree with a bum ankle, he didn't know, but he would have to do so. the only other option was not really an option, as it would result in him being eaten in his sleep on the ground.

x_x_X

He paused at the base of a tree to take a drink of water, and opened one of the dry rations, which happened to be granola bars, to munch on. He'd have to find water in the morning, because what was in the canteen wasn't going to last. in this heat, he'd be hard pressed to ration it.

He finally found a suitable tree, with branches that started low enough that he might be able to manage the climb. A search in his bag revealed that yes, he did have a length of rope inside. It took several nerve-wracking minutes at the base of the tree before he figured out a way to use the rope to his advantage.

x_x_X

He took a deep, steadying breath and slid his injured foot into the loop in the rope, gritting his teeth as he pushed off the ground and grabbed at the branch above him. He got a grip on it, and planted his good foot in the space between two branches,tugging on the rope to help. Adrenaline blocked most of the pain, allowing him to bear it and do what needed to be done.

Soon enough he was settled on the branch, panting with exertion. There were tears in his eyes from the pain, but he blinked them away. He had to get a little higher in the tree - raptors could jump, and the other carnivores were all big enough to spot him in the crook of the branch and gobble him up. Which would be bad.

Connor pulled the rope from the branch, and tossed one end up and over once more, catching it as it fell and trying again. Three tries later and it had caught on another thick branch above him, and he duplicated his actions from before, scrambling up to the higher branch and collapsing against the trunk of the tree with a gasping sigh of relief. He was exhausted, and now the adrenaline began to wear off. Connor sipped at the water and finished the granola bar, and then settled down to sleep. It didn't come easily, but eventually he nodded off, dreaming of Abby.

* * *

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Connor awoke, stiff and aching and in enough pain that he was forced to take one of the very few Acetaminophen pills in the first aid kit. While it went to work, he stretched and tried to figure out how he would get to the ground, as well as what he would do about food and water. He had enough of the granola/protein bars for a day or two, but he'd need to figure out something before he was down to rationing them. Water he would need to get today, because there was only a few sips left in the canteen.

It took a little while, but Connor finally decided to descend from the tree the same way he climbed up there in the first place. His ankle wasn't quite as bad today - or maybe that was the pain killer talking - and nevertheless, he managed to climb down the tree without too much trouble.

Connor coiled his rope back up and put it in his pack, and then turned, looking around. He nibbled his lip and took one small sip of water. He was lucky that he'd researched random things on the internet in his spare time : he knew how to find water. Even millions of years in the past, the rules still applied.

x_x_X

Connor was not outdoorsy. He also knew he would never be as good a tracker as Stephen had been, and he was rather worse at it than Abby, but even he could follow the tracks of dinosaurs, the imprints in the dirt were pretty clear, and there were more of them converging as he headed downhill. Water flows that way, so it was safe to assume that it would be at the bottom of a hill. Add to that the masses of prints, and the difference in the color of the leaves? Connor was 80% sure he was headed in the right direction. Probably.

It was seriously hot out now that the sun was fully up, and he was sweating from exertion, but he didn't want to risk sunburn or loose his jacket, so he gritted his teeth and leaned on his improvised crutch, and continued walking. He wished Abby was here just because having another person here would make everything easier. Connor pushed away the thought; she wasn't here, he was alone, but he couldn't get upset right now. He needed to keep going, and not think about what ifs, or even his situation beyond what he could actually do.

His ankle was hurting again.

x_x_X

He waved his hand in front of his face to ward off the insects flying around. That was actually a good sign; bugs moved towards water too. Connor listened carefully for both dinosaurs and for any possible sound of moving water. He'd prefer a stream to a pond, because he was pretty sure there wasn't anything in his pack to help him purify water, and he didn't want to get sick. The Cretaceous wasn't exactly quiet, and while he couldn't hear any dinosaurs nearby, that didn't mean he could relax. This time period was full of carnivores, like he'd told Danny, and he had no intention of ending up a snack for a hungry theropod or carnotaur.

His stomach growled, and Connor grimaced. Once he found water, he'd have to do something about food. He wasn't really ace on paleobotany by any means, so he'd have to make some dangerous guesses when it came to edible or inedible vegetation, but he couldn't survive here without some sort of veg.

x_x_X

There was a stream, a clear, crisp, babbling stream that, when he waded in, reached his thighs, and was moving quick enough that it was hopefully safe enough to drink. Connor cupped his hands and drank in big gulps, breathing through his nose and grinning. He ducked his head under the water and straightened, sending water spraying everywhere. The water was cool on his hot skin, and well worth the uncomfortability of wet trousers and pants. Connor took a few more handfuls of water and then set about refilling the canteen.

He was relaxed, enjoying the fresh water and oblivious to the world, a dangerous decision even in his own time. The warning growling laugh of a raptor brought Connor down from his relief-induced high with a shocking suddenness. He swallowed audibly and turned, paling at the sight of the creature's bristling feathers and bared teeth. Connor backed away, one step at a time, slowly, not making eye contact with the raptor. If they were anything like cats, direct eye contact was a challenge, and one he didn't want to make. He had no weapons at all, nothing to use to defend himself.

_Note to self, make a spear or a knife or— wait!_ There was a knife in his pack, a little one, but still a sharp blade, now that he thought of it! He carefully pulled it out. A small part of him wanted it to attack, to be able to prove himself, and a little tendril of thought in the back of his mind had him wondering what Raptor tasted like, whilst most of him was terrified and wanted nothing to do with it. He held out the pocketknife in front of him and tried not to limp as he backed up onto dry ground. The raptor glared at him a little longer, and then bent its neck and drank from the stream, the feathers on its neck lying flat once more. Connor breathed a small sigh of relief, and grabbed his crutch, leaning heavily on it as his ankle throbbed. Once more he was thankful he'd not managed to break his ankle in the fall, only sprained.

Protein bars would have to suffice for now, until he was able to run and hunt.

His stomach grumbled, and Connor cautiously allowed that he might be able to find some edible plants in the area. He'd have to.

* * *

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Going back a little bit to the day before. A really short chappie, just catching up with Danny and Abby.

* * *

"No. No, Connor!" Abby stared at the spot the anomaly had been a split second ago. Just as she and Danny got here, it vanished, stranding Connor on the other side, injured and alone. Her vision blurred and her eyes prickled, and Abby let the tears drip over her cheeks, gaze not moving. She heard Danny moved quietly to stand beside her, felt his arm encircle her shoulders gently.

"Shh, Abby. Connor's brilliant, he'll be okay, alright?" Danny murmured, as Abby realized she was trembling. She took a shaky breath and angrily swiped at the tears.

"O-okay." She said, swallowing.

"For all we know, this anomaly'll open again any time now." Abby didn't reply, not wanting to tell Danny that the chance was so small it was useless holding onto. "C'mere." He said, just as gently, and sh let herself be pulled into a hug.

He didn't get it. She'd promised she'd be back for Connor. If he survived, if they survived, Connor would surely hate her now, for abandoning him. (That it had been his idea was irrelevant.)

Abby swallowed, pushing away her fear and tears and all of that, and straightened, taking several steadying breaths, moving out of Danny's embrace.

"We have to get started on figuring out how to survive here. Inventory what's in our packs… look for a water supply…"

"Abby-"

"Survival first, emotion later, yeah?" She muttered, pushing past him and opening the bag he'd dropped on the ground upon arrival in this time.

He nodded, glancing back at the empty air where the anomaly had been, and then joined Abby, removing the two water canteens as Abby pulled out granola bars and swiss army knives and stun grenades, laying out things in piles according to usefulness.

Her hands shook slightly, but he chose to ignore it, reaching over to help. She was right, this wasn't the right time to cry. He hoped Connor would be okay like he'd said… the kid'd been injured, but he was a certifiable genius, and he had emergency supplies in his bag as well. He'd be alright.

The best thing they could do right now was to make sure they could survive here.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Thanks to a suggestion from Kaishei (k-k-kaishei) on Tumblr, and some advice from my dad (he used to be in the scouts when he was young *g*), I managed to write this chapter! :D And I like the result.

( AN2: Piltdown Man, not sure what you mean about 'from africa to the americas'... it's always been my understanding that anomalies travel through time and space, if that helps? But we might see more of danny and abby at some point. Dunno about continuing into S4, we'll hvae to see where the muse takes it.)

~Thanks for the reviews, guys! Hope you enjoy this next chapter~

* * *

Connor's stomach growled, and he ignored it. He wanted to save the last two granola bars for emergencies.

_'I need to learn how to survive here, not use up my supplies and end up dying when I'm too hungry and exhausted to take care of myself, and that means figuring out what is ok to eat, learning how to hunt, making a fire _  
_and cooking and dealing with all of this 'till an anomaly opens to lead me home._'

No matter what, he'd have to take these risks. Might's well take 'em when he's still moderately healthy.

Connor plucked a fig-like fruit, stem, leaf, and all, before carefully climbing back down to the ground. Leaning against the trunk of the possible-fig-tree, Connor took the bag off of his back, unzipped it, and added the fruit and leaf to the growing collection within. Then he took the little bottle of spray paint (hiking emergency trail paint, apparently… which made some sense, he mused) out of a smaller pocket, and marked the trunk of the tree with a blue dot.

Then he picked up his crutch, and limped over to a fern, smelling the leaves of the plant before snagging a piece, and putting that in his bag. (The fern got sprayed too, just like all of the other plants he'd taken fruits or seeds from, 'cept for the tubers and things like that, 'cause he'd remember what they looked like.)

Deciding he had enough vegetation to sample for now, Connor headed back towards his tree.

x_x_X

Connor split another twig and added it to the kindling, hopping on one leg to the other side of the area he'd cleared of plants and leaves. After scooping some dirt out to make a shallow dip, he'd found several large stones and had set a few aside before putting the rest in a circle around the spot. Under the kindling was a mix of dryer lint, crushed dry leaves, bits of bark and shredded twigs (thanks, good ol' trusty pocketknife) as the tinder.

Thankfully the fire starter kit had had a guide inside, because he wasn't sure he knew much at all about building a fire…. or starting one, either.

(Yes, he'd googled it once but that had been so long ago… and the stuff about finding water had been a much more recent search.)

He'd also collected, like the guide instructed, larger pieces of wood… unfortunately he didn't have an axe to chop logs or anything like that, but there were plenty of branches on the ground, and he'd snapped a couple of saplings to use as well. Now Connor bit his bottom lip as he arranged the wood over the kindling and tinder, before picking up the fire starter and following the instructions…

Connor let out a very undignified squeaking sound as the spark immediately caught on the kindling and tinder, a fire crackling to life and startling him into dropping the fire starter. He laughed self-consciously as he retrieved it, even though there was no-one there to see, and moved back a little.

"Okay. Fire's lit…. now what?"

x_x_X

The crackle and pop of the flames kept the creatures away, their only experience with it that of wild, lightning-trike-caused forest fires, causing a now-instinctual fear of the burning, destructive things.

All to the good of the lone little human, who sat nearby with his back against the base of his tree. Up in the branches, the pack was nestled, mostly hidden from sight. A rope hung down from one of the branches and swung slightly in the breeze, a few centimeters from the ground.

Connor leaned forwards and tossed another handful of dry twigs and bark into the fire, flinching slightly as it flared up momentarily. It was a moderately small fire, but good enough.

x_x_X

He dumped the contents of his pack onto the ground, and surveyed what he'd collected.

With some trepidation he picked up a fruit that looked a bit like an apple,  
and brought it to his lips. He took a tiny bite, and found it tasted tart as he chewed. He was hungry enough that he threw caution to the wind and took a second bite, before setting it aside.

Ten minutes after swallowing two small pieces of the fruit, Connor found himself horrendously sick.

x_x_X

He blinked his eyes open blearily, uttering a muffled curse.

After vomiting for a completely disproportionate amount of time (and number of times, as well), he'd been weak and shaky. Connor had forced himself to drink some water, worrying in the back of his mind about the fire, before he'd passed out, lying on the ground at the base of his tree.

Now he woke to find that his fire had gone out in the night - it was amazing that he hadn't been eaten by something! His head hurt a little, and he was starving, but he felt… okay-ish.

Kind of.

He groaned and slowly sat up, reaching over to grab the canteen. There was just enough water in it to rid his mouth of the foul taste of bile, and clear his head a little.

"Well…. that was absolutely the most dumb thing I've ever done."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Piltdown - ahh, hmm... that's one way, and it makes the most sense of how it could have happened... but then think about what the anomalies mean, how the creatures move through from their times into ours... why not into each other's times, explaining why a creature that should be in one place... is found somewhere else? And maybe a year or two difference between the anomalies? Cutter talks about a fossil at the beginning of the season that existed out of its time/place, yeah? I dunno, just speculation! But it's just as likely that he moved through several anomalies. Oh, and for everyone: I have muse for this story into S4 and even S5, now! There's gonna be a lot of Connor learning about how to not just survive but also _live _within the Cretaceous, as well as some Abby and Danny dealing with their situation, and then how this all affects them all and the future... ;3 And that's all I'll say for now.

AN 2: Another update while the muse is cooperating with me :D Hope you Enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Connor grabbed the pack and pulled out one of the granola bars,. He was still feeling weak, and he didn't feel guilty at all in finishing one of the two little bars in the package… and then the second.

"Okay, next time I have to just take one bite, not two." Connor mused out loud as he stood on

trembling legs. "Not that it would've really changed much, but still… shouldn't have been fooled by the taste." He muttered. Connor stretched and rolled his shoulders, breathing in and out through his nose. His stomach roiled a little still, and the even breaths helped settle it.

He hadn't had time to really dwell on his situation, filling his mind with ideas and plans, a million ideas of what he could do to survive here…. that the realization that he was

seriously out of his depth had his heart racing. If he wasn't careful, he could just die here, never to see Abby or anyone else ever again. But at the same time, there was no way he could be too careful, no matter how dangerous his surroundings were, because he had no other way to survive than to step into this unknown and somehow make it work.

He swallowed the sudden knot in his throat, shaking his head. If Helen had managed to survive for 8 years, he could survive 'till he found a way home. (He just hoped it wouldn't be that long for him… she'd survived but had gone insane. Then again, he was nothing like her. He had to stop thinking in circles, he'd give himself a migraine with all this!)

"Water." Connor said, a little too loudly. He was thirsty, and the container was empty. He'd been lucky, picking this spot: the stream was not too far away.

He put the rest of the veg back in the pack, picked it up, and limped over to his tree, where he climbed up in order to place the bag snugly between branch and trunk before shimmying back down to the ground, huffing as his layers lifted up and his ribs scratched against the bark.

Thankfully it seemed that the aches from falling on his back were fading, and his ankle only twinged now if he stepped too heavily upon that foot. It was one less thing to worry about.

He kicked dirt onto the wood to make sure the coals were completely dead, grabbed the canteen, and then set off towards the stream. Plans for various tools and a second water container ran through his weary mind as Connor walked quietly through the cretaceous forest.

x_x_X

The woodlands were hot and humid, and before too long Connor was sweating heavily, panting.

The stomping, heavy footfalls of Titanosaurs had Connor hesitate, grinning as he leaned against a tree and waited. Soon into his sight lien came first one, and then two other, slowly plodding, Aegyptosaurus. It was an amazing sight, watching them walk by.

"They're beautiful." He breathed, almost disappointed as they didn't pause, and moved on, not interested in the leaves of this tree. (Which maybe meant that he shouldn't eat them either, Connor mused.) He had no time to dawdle, though, and continued walking towards the stream. As he stepped, his boot-clad feet sank slightly into the loamy soil.

x_x_X

The rustling sounds that signaled the movements of the small mammals of the Cretaceous in the underbrush made Connor think about survival again. He thought about Cutter's theory, that changing the past changed the future. He could kill some of these little things, or a dinosaur, or anything - and might return home to find that something had changed completely.

Usually Connor was more in favor of a multiverse theory, but that really didn't mean that his actions now would not affect the future. At the same time, there was absolutely no other choice. Living with Abby, who's a Pescatarian, Connor had mostly gotten used to eating less meat in his diet, at least in their flat. But fish were part of this time's eclogy. He would not be able to adjust to living on veggies alone. Risks were absolutely unavoidable.

The stream was in sight, and his shoulders dropped with relief. Connor had been distracting himself from how thirsty he was. with all sorts of plans and thoughts, but at the sight of running, fresh water, every other thought in his head vanished.

Connor quickly untied and slipped off his boots, and then splashed his way into the water, cupping his hands to drink several times. He drank more slowly after his initial thirst was soothed, and then splashed his face with the cool water, before filling the canteen to the top and capping it off.

Connor straightened, and smiled. He felt better, like he could actually do this.


	6. Chapter 6

His survival so far was entirely due to his determination to learn, to live, to adapt, Connor decided. If he'd been the sort to give up, he wouldn't have made it even a week. Three weeks later (he'd started keeping count by scoring a line in the trunk of his tree with his knife) and he felt his natural optimism finally beginning to return, if only a little.

Connor turned the spit on the branch-tripod over his cookfire, and then went back to whittling away at a long section of wood, about as long as he was tall, and two thumb-lengths thick. It was going to be a spear, when he was finished. Lucky his pocketknife was good quality, it barely had a couple of nics in it.

He'd caught a small early mammal earlier today, but it'd given him the runaround and he'd gotten way too close to what he'd figured was the regular hunting grounds of the resident [input carnivorous cretaceous dino here], and while he wasn't great pickings for such a large dinosaur, he was probably much easier prey to catch, unfortunately. It'd just been luck he'd caught it in his pack.

The first time he'd had to kill a creature he'd hunted, Connor had been a nervous wreck. It was one thing to cook and eat meat, it was another thing to have to kill that animal, skin it, and cook it all yourself. There'd been blood and mess, and he'd ended up with burnt food that had tasted like charcoal more'n anything else. The second time, he'd been a little more prepared, but it would never be easy.

He thought maybe the little animal this time was a Deltatheridium, because it looked a little like a weasel. But there were a lot more types of little mammals here in the Cretaceous than he'd thought - they didn't show up in the fossil record at all, for the most part. (Connor really, relaly hoped he wasn't messing up time itself by eating early mammals! Not like he could do anything about it but he just would hate to return home and find out, say, cows, or his great aunt, or someone else, suddenly didn't exist or something 'cause of him.)

Making a spear, it'd turn everything a lot easier: he could try spear-fishing, could have more successful hunts, and have a real weapon to ward off all the creatures that could harm him...

His mind had wandered, and Connor was brought back into the present by the scent of his meal turning just this side of charred. The green fern leaves wrapped around were darkened slightly, but Connor was sure he was getting better at cooking like this. Even if the food never had much flavor anyway. He quickly took the stick off the tripod and pushed the leaf-wrapped bundle onto the piece of slate he'd been using as a 'plate' of sorts. He held the blade of his pocketknife over the flame for a moment, and then used it to check the meat by cutting a little.

Finding it fully cooked, Connor set to eating, his thoughts wandering once more.

x_X_X

Roots and bulbs, he'd found, tended to be a safer bet than fruits when it came to what was edible or not. The fig was probably an early relative of that very fruit, and it was safe to eat and didn't taste horrible. He was lucky he could remember things so well, because it meant he could keep track of what things he could and couldn't consume.

He learned to cook things in - or rather, over - the fire, trial by error, and burned his fingertips more times than he cared to count.

A potato-like tuber was tasty when wrapped in fern leaves - which, for some reason he knew but couldn't exactly remember, wouldn't burn easily- and put in the flames at the very edge of the fire, though getting it out without getting hurt too badly was tricky.

The tubers and roots and bulbs weren't too terribly hard to find, but gathering them did leave him vulnerable. Especially at night. He'd been digging in the dirt around dusk one time, when the too-close chirping of a dinosaur was followed seconds later by a chorus of cackles and chirps. Connor'd looked around, terrified, and identified the creatures that had snuck up on him as some sort of Troodontid, before they attacked, and he'd fled, heart beating like it was going to fly out of his chest as his boot-clad feet pounded on the ground. He'd made it back to his tree and into the safety of its branches in one piece, but the intelligent therapods had gotten nips at him, and he had scratches all along his arms and legs. He'd been much more careful from then on.

x_X_X

Connor'd started making tools, and planning ways to not just survive, but live. Besides the spear, tripod, and the pieces of slate he'd started using as plates, there were other things he'd planned in his head and started work on, earning himself splinters and cuts in plenty.

Things like a dish made of wood to collect rain water in, and a blade made of stone. Plans for a platform in the fork of his tree to sleep on, a better pulley system with rope if he ever became badly injured and needed to get to safety, and many other ideas fill his mind.

Nets, fishing rods, knives... he wondered if he could even make those things with what he had.

x_X_X

The clinking jangle of metal-on-metal had Connor alert in seconds, looking around him with hope in his eyes. His gaze moved to the homemade anomaly detector he'd fashioned from his keys... only to find them missing.

"Dammit!" Connor cursed, growling. He needed those! Whatever creature'd taken them would regret doing that, Connor thought, as he stomped off in the direction of the clawprints he'd spotted in the swampy earth.

x_X_X

"Give me back me keys!" Connor shouted and grabbed at them.

The Archarornithoides - a very small bird-like therapod - stepped back, away from him, the keys in its mouth. It took 'em, like a magpie does with shiny things, and he was arguing with a 3 foot long dinosaur over keys that're basically useless.

Connor snatched at them again and shoved the thought of how silly this was away. The thing screeched and dropped the keys, and Connor's the idiot who reached for them - jerking his hand back with a cry of pain as the Archarornithoides bit down, hard, before running away.

Connor clutched his bleeding hand, and stared at the keys for a long moment before picking them up and heading back to his tree. Realizing he left the fire unattended had Connor scolding himself repeatedly in his mind. He'd been lucky so far in the Cretaceous, now is not the time to make stupid mistakes.

He wrapped his hand with strips of gauze from the first aid kit, and took a gulp of water from the canteen. When he climbed higher in the tree across the way from his and hung the keys on the end of a branch, Connor spotted a Pteranodon soaring gracefully in the distance, wheeling over the tree tops.

An amazing sight, but it reminded Connor of what the therapod somehow had failed to: he wasn't meant to be here. The keys could help him get home, it was worth the set of teeth marks in his hand. They weren't even that bad, were like a cat bite gone wrong, and only hurt a little. He was lucky he was bigger than the Archarornithoides, otherwise it might've put up more of a fight.

x_X_X

He lay uncomfortably on his branch in his tree, cuddled under the foil blanket to keep himself warm in the cold Cretaceous night. Connor couldn't fall asleep, yet again. It happened far too often here... and it wasn't the threat of creatures keeping him awake. No, it was his fear and worry for Abby and Danny that he pushed to the back of his mind during the day that filled his head at night.

"I miss you Abbs..." Connor whispered, wrapping his arms around himself and curling as much as he could on the branch without falling off. He was so lonely... how could he do this alone? He was normally so optimistic, but sometimes, like now, the fear and worry caught him and he couldn't help but feel incredibly sorry for himself. That night, for the first time in weeks, he cried himself to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

It took Connor more than a week or two to get used to the Cretaceous - as if you could actually adjust to living in a time not your own - in which time there were several more occasions in which, as careful as he was trying to be, he touched or ate the wrong plant or part of a plant, and earned himself dizzy spells, rashes, stomach aches, and various other thankfully short-term ailments. In between those episodes, however, he was learning his environment… and thinking up ways to do more than just survive.

He wasn't naturally the most practical thinker, but he had no choice but to turn his inventive mind to practical uses. He'd already had luck with the fire pit and cooking tripod - but it was mostly just that, luck that he'd had some memory of how to make those things, and had the tools at hand. Connor started several projects at the same time, alternating between working on a more permanent pulley system with rope and the tree in case he injured himself again, and a hunting spear. Making the spearhead, and the spear itself, left him nursing several cuts and pulling splinters for the duration.

One chilly night, Connor sat with his knees up in front , back against the trunk of his tree, fire blazing in the pit to ward off the native inhabitants and for heat, knife in one hand and stone piece in the other. It'd been a bit of a struggle to find a good stone that could be cut away by the little knife but wouldn't shatter easily, and he had a small collection of the stones in the pack. Chipping away at the edges of the rock, Connor's mind wandered to thinking about Abby and Danny. He tried not to, because he was worried, and there was nothing he could do to help. He figured they'd stopped Helen, otherwise he'd not be here, right? (The mechanics of the space time continuum and how changes happened was confusing, to be honest, but he had to believe they had stopped her.) So, his mind was wandering, his concentration following, and all of a sudden there was a sharp flare of pain in his palm, shocking him out of his thoughts.

"Aaahh, ow!"

Confused and in pain, he looked down, and his eyes widened: he'd sliced himself right across the palm, deep enough that the amount of blood covering his hand made him feel queasy.

Connor swallowed audibly, nostrils flaring, and dropped the stone and knife (he wasn't even sure which he'd cut himself with, they were both covered in blood and he couldn't—) before pressing right on the wound with his other hand.

Gritting his teeth against the scream building in his throat, Connor realized he needed something better to stop the flow.

The only question was, what could he use? There were no more long bandages in the first aid kit, and the plasters were all little and virtually useless! Feeling slightly lightheaded, he cast his eyes desperately around his little camp, and his gaze caught on the sleeves of his pleather jacket. Perfect.

He wasn't sure how he'd tear a strip one-handed, but his left was out of commission… Connor stood woozily and retrieved the jacket, before sinking back to the ground, and leaning his left elbow on the sleeve several centimeters away from the end. He grabbed the hem with his right hand, and yanked hard, feeling relieved when, after two tries, a good sized strip tore away. The first aid kit thankfully had cream to put on wounds to help healing and reduce pain, so he fumbled the tube open and stuck some of that on his makeshift bandage before carefully - as carefully as he could manage - pressing it against his injured palm, and tying it around and about his hand. Tying a knot one handed was difficult, but he got it eventually.

Connor stared at his throbbing hand and then looked up and around, heart rate finally slowing to normal, eyes less wild than before, and he breathed a long sigh.

"Bugger it! Two days without anythin' bad happenin', 'n I had to go and slice me palm up?" He said, grumpily. Connor turned a sullen gaze on the knife and half-finished spearhead, and huffed.

"I won't be able ta work on this 'n for a couple of days a' least. Glad I finished the fishin' spear first." It'd given him a billion splinters, but it meant that he wouldn't go hungry while his hand healed.

x_x_X_X

Danny was surprised at the dark glee on Abby's face at hearing of Helen's demise, but found he could understand it, having watched, powerless, as 13 of the Austrolopithicus (boy was that a mouthful of a word!) died of poisoning at Helen's hands. He didn't ask, but thought that Abby was probably thinking about Nick Cutter, apparently killed by his insane ex wife. Said woman having fallen off a cliff thanks to an equally dead raptor (which would probably confuse the hell out of scientists in the future, the human and raptor bodies that'd be carbon dated to a time they shouldn't've. Maybe they'd get lucky and it would be dismissed as a hoax.), Danny figured Helen'd had just deserts for her actions now.

They hadn't come across any creatures since he and Abby'd gone looking for Austrolopiths and found several more family groups looking quite lively and healthy. That had taken their minds off of Helen, even as they poured over the journal.

Now, the lack of water, creatures, and shelter were beginning to worry the both of them. They had just enough water and food in their packs to get them a fair distance, but it all seemed like open quasi-desert for kilometers, which was definitely troubling. Apparently this time period was home to those Terror birds they'd been aquainted with at the bunker, according to Abby, though she wasn't sure on that, or on what all other creatures they might come across. Neither of them had any idea what continent they might be on, which complicated things further.

The lack of creatures wasn't a bad thing per se, but it meant this whole area wasn't exactly  
habitable. There hadn't been even any stagnant pools of water since the last time they made camp, which was hours and hours ago. They'd used one of the few purification tablets on the last puddle they came to to refill the bottles, both understanding it might be difficult to find more. Now that prediction was coming true.

Once in a while, they both spared a moment and a thought to worrying about how Connor was doing, but Abby insisted they needed to focus, brushing off Danny's questions. Eventually he'd decided it was better not to inquire after their relationship, or her thoughts on Connor, and the heat of the day bared down on the two humans unceasingly.

Abby coughed and took off her jacket, tying it around her waist, before standing on tip toe and peering into the distance. Danny chuckled, throat feeling rather dry.

"Anything?" He asked, knowing the answer would be a big 'no'.

Abby sighed, shrugging, glancing at him. "No, not really. A bit of a smudge over 'round there looks like it could be promising, but it could just as easily be some rock formation or other." He could hear the defeat in her tone, and winced.

"We might 's well check it out, eh? Oh, and drink some more water, you're looking flushed." He said, smiling slightly when she narrowed her eyes at him. She did take two sips, however, before a corner of her mouth twitched up.

"Yeah, alright. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Danny nodded along, and they both pretended to believe it.

* * *

TBC (the connor whumpage lessens considerably after this  
... probably)


End file.
